


The space between stars

by trialbyfic



Series: they are siblings (and they care for each other) [6]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Autistic Nastya, Dialogue Heavy, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Jonny and Nastya are siblings, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Sibling Bonding, Social Anxiety, The Mechanisms-Typical Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26313169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trialbyfic/pseuds/trialbyfic
Summary: Jonny scoffs. "She's a warship. She can take it."'I can't take it,' Nastya wants to say, but she quickly shoves the impulse aside. This isn't about her, right now. "Our ship is already damaged. Can't you go a moment without adding to it?""If time proves anything? No." Jonny grins darkly, pleased at his bit of snark.---Uh oh, Nastya can canonically feel pain when Aurora malfunctions!
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville & Nastya Rasputina, The Aurora/Nastya Rasputina
Series: they are siblings (and they care for each other) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926106
Comments: 14
Kudos: 126





	The space between stars

**Author's Note:**

> have you ever written a couple so soft that you cried? i mean it, i literally wrote some dialogue between nastya and the aurora that's so soft i started to tear up
> 
> anyway, nastya can canonically feel pain when aurora malfunctions, so i thought i'd write something about it!
> 
> cw's are: general gun violence from the mechs, also some brief talk abt the wires beneath nastya's skin. if i've missed any tags/warnings, please let me know!
> 
> title is from "Swan Song" from the Tales To Be Told Volume II album!

Nastya is lounging in her designated seat on the Bridge when the Aurora's gentle forward motion through space comes to an abrupt and noticable halt, lightly jolting everyone where they sit.

Nastya can feel that the issue is with Aurora's rocket propulsuon system before she knows it- can feel the pain of Aurora's mechanical plight in her own legs, as a leadened feeling seeps into her bones, and as a tight, bruised sensation grips the muscles of her thighs and calves.

Nastya's own body is practically a map of the Aurora's autonomy, as different areas experience pain in relation to the various malfunctions that plague Aurora over time. And her legs, Nastya has learned, mean that the malfunction rests with the Aurora's plasma propulsion system.

There's a frustrated huff from Jonny, who sits in the seat beside her, as he stands up and looks around. "What the fuck is up, now? Why aren't we moving?"

"Aurora's propulsion systems are down," Nastya says, at the same time that Brian's voice crackles over the comlink from the flight deck to say "Forward plasma banks are offline. We're stuck."

"Shit," Jonny swears, "How long will it take to fix?"

"I'm getting temperature errors from the engines," Brian says, "You'll have to consult Nastya."

Jonny turns to her. "Nastya?"

Nastya idly taps her fingers in a rhythm on the console desk in front of her, thinking. "If it's temperature errors, that might mean there is erosion on the thruster cavity and support structure. Which, as you can imagine with dismantling an entire plasma thruster cavity, would take a substantial amount of time to repair."

Jonny swears again and draws his gun, shooting angrily into the floor.

Nastya flinches, not from the sound, but from the sparks and stabs of pain that erupt in the depths of her own chest as Aurora is damaged. Sternum pain means Bridge errors, Nastya automatically recalls- and she rolls her eyes at herself. It's not exactly something she needs to decipher, when she's watching the damage happen right in front of her.

"We'll need to move soon, unless you want to spend the next month fighting the gravitational pull of that nearby star," Brian warns.

Jonny grates out a growl and fires another round of bullets into Aurora, aiming at the ceiling this time. Nastya, already distressed from the ache in her legs and not wanting to tolerate any more pain, draws her own gun and leans over to smack the back of Jonny's hand with it.

The ridged metallic chamber of her Keplan 0831 pistol whips hard against Jonny's knuckles, and his gun nearly tumbles out of his now pain-slackened grip.

"Ouch!" Jonny shouts, surprised by the attack. "What-"

"Stop it," Nastya commands roughly. "You're hurting her."

"Who? The ship?" Jonny holsters his gun and shakes out his hand, as if that'll throw off the pain.

"Yes, Aurora."

Jonny scoffs. "She's a warship. She can take it."

'I can't take it,' Nastya wants to say, but she quickly shoves the impulse aside. This isn't about her, right now. "Our ship is already damaged. Can't you go a moment without adding to it?"

"If time proves anything? No." Jonny grins darkly, pleased at his bit of snark.

That earns Jonny a bullet through the arm. He claps a hand to the wound and snarls, then silently retreats back to his seat, sending a heavy glare Nastya's way.

Nastya turns in time to see the rest of the crew's wide eyes avert themselves from the scene, and back to their consoles. It's unusual, Nastya thinks- little spats like this are usually common enough to get no recognition beyond a fleeting glance, but for some reason, they all always seems to take an interest when it's between her and Jonny.

She'd asked them about it one time, after an argument had resigned Jonny to storming out of the room, with his limp and bleeding arm held close to his chest.

("What? What's so interesting about a fight between me and Jonny?" Nastya had inquired, her narrowed eyes coldly scanning their caught expressions.)

("It's strange, is all," Tim had spoken up. "You two usually get along pretty well.")

(Nastya sneered. "I don't know where you got that idea, but you are wrong. Jonny is intolerable.")

Nastya slowly raises from her seat, hands braced on the armrests as she tests her weight on her legs. Her knees buckle at first, but she soon regains stability, and she tries as best she can to walk smoothly out of the Bridge. She feels eyes on her back as she exits the door, so she hastens her step, and doesn't turn around. She has a propulsion system to fix.

Nastya's legs feel like dead weights beneath her, and her footsteps are unsteady and halting as she carries herself through Aurora's halls, relying closely on the walls to keep herself from falling.

"Nastya?" Aurora chimes in a soft whirr of cambelts, "Are you alright?"

"Yes, just- your plasma banks are offline."

"And it is affecting you harshly, as well?"

"Unfortunately."

Aurora trills sympathetically. "I am sorry, my love."

Nastya sighs, stopping for a moment and leaning her back against the wall. "It is not your fault, sweetheart."

"I know it is not, but..." Aurora trails off, words edged with a low hum of regret.

Nastya turns her face to the side, pressing a quick kiss to the cool metal of Aurora's panelling. "Let's talk about this later, please. I would like to repair your plasma banks first."

"Alright, my dear."

Reluctantly, Nastya pushes herself away from the wall, and continues on her struggling trek to the propulsion system control chambers.

Nastya had hoped that her journey would become easier when the corridors finally gave way to Zero-G, but with the frustrated clap of a hand to her forhead, she realizes that it's only become more difficult.

Nastya tries to coax her stiff legs into cooperating with her attempts to kick the wall to propell her, but without gravity aiding her movements, it's more trouble to work with them than it is to simply use her arms. So she grabs onto the handlebars placed along the ceiling, and painstakingly tugs herself through the long and twisting path to the propulsion control chambers, at the very tail end of the ship.

She eventually reaches the chambers, and she pushes herself to float in front of the main control panel. Aurora revs tightly and hesitantly around Nastya, an underlying tension.

Nastya doesn't even need to navigate the panel to investigate what's wrong- she simply places her hand on it, and behind her closed eyelids, the bright white-grey letters of her Augmented Reality Interface presents a prompt to connect her with it. She agrees, and is immediately flooded with error after error.

Nastya shakes her head, clearing some of the mental noise away, as she zeroes in on the source of the errors- a bad reading in one of the Kalman filters focused on the internal temperatures of the plasma thrusters.

"These prediction variables are way off," Nastya mutters as she files through the code. "How long has it been since I last updated them?"

"2 Centuries, 10 decades, 1 year, 7 months, and 9 days," Aurora supplies.

"Oh, huh. I suppose that is a very long time to something that can age, isn't it?"

"It has been quite a while, indeed, Nastya."

Nastya hums absentmindedly as she reconfigures the code. "Could you remind me to check on it once every decade? I think that will keep it in line."

"I will do so."

Nastya's eyelids flutter back open once she's completed the revisions to the algoritm, and her vision shutters as the lettering of her interface- burned onto her retinas in a way that reminds her of looking at a star for too long- fades away.

Aurora's plasma thrusters slowly sputter back into life, then kick into full operation with a loud and satisfying roar. All at once, the leadened feeling in Nastya's legs bleeds away, and in her excitement, Nastya kicks herself back and forth across the control chamber.

Aurora laughs in a symphonic churning of gears. "Are you pleased, Nastya?"

Nastya grins and claps her hands happily. "Yes, very!"

A comlink on the wall clicks on, and Brian's voice comes through. "My, that was quick! What did you do?"

"There were no physical repairs that needed to be done," Nastya explains, "It was just a simple issue with the Kalman readouts thinking that her plasma engines were too warm, which I've since fixed."

"Great," Brian says, "Looks like we won't be dealing with that star, after all. Good work, Nastya." The comlink clicks off, and Nastya sighs proudly.

Aurora sighs as well, but it isn't in pride- it's in solemn contemplation, and the sudden shift of mood has Nastya frowning worriedly. "Aurora? Sweetheart? Is something wrong?"

"I... I feel bad for you, my love."

"Oh? For what?

"For the empathetic pain that you must take in stride, due to your association with me."

Nastya shakes her head. "I've already told you, that isn't your fault."

"I do not claim it to be, Nastya. But I still experience sadness for you. The Gunner will cause an explosion, the Quartermaster will set rooms ablaze, the First Mate will shoot holes into walls and screens and wires alike, and you are forced to feel it all."

"There's nothing we can do about that," Nastya says quietly, "Besides, I have dealt with it for so long now. I'm used to it."

"...Do not lie to me."

"What? I-"

"I said, do not lie to me. Do you think that I cannot see your strain and ache? Do you think that I cannot feel the weight upon your shoulders, sinking you into my floor? I know this empathetic pain is different from what the crew may inflict upon you personally."

Nastya ducks her head, curling into her self ashamedly. "I... must admit, it is jarring to experience a pain that is not immediately relieved by my mechanism. Or, in terms of lingering pain, one that is not directly caused by my mechanism itself."

"And? What else?" Aurora prompts.

"And," Nastya relents, "It is also slightly disheartening to know that... they will never stop."

Aurora's whirring stutters for a moment, surprised. "What do you mean, Nastya?"

"I mean-" Nastya folds tighter into herself, arms crossed and pressed tight over her chest. A panel opens above her, and one of Aurora's thick cables files down, snaking around Nastya's waist in a gesture of comfort.

Nastya lets out an anxious sigh, and uncurls slightly. "I mean, I can't exactly ask the others to stop, can I? They're- that's what they do! It's their- their trademarks! Jonny shoots- him and the rest of them- Tim blows stuff up, Ashes sets stuff on fire, Raphaella spills acid all the damn time, instead of testing it's corrosion in a normal way- It seems... integral to who they are, almost."

Aurora rattles gently, thinking. "What do you imagine would happen, if you asked them to stop? Really, truly confronted them, I clarify."

Nastya shrugs. "I don't know? They would laugh in my face, probably. And they might start doing it more purposefully, when they want to get at me. Or more often, just because they don't like me."

"I have never heard them honestly say that they do not like you."

"I know they don't, though. They can't! I'm never there for communal activities, I never join them planetside- ah, that's... besides the point. The fact is, I doubt that they'll stop, even if I ask. Even if I threaten, or beg."

"Oh, Nastya," Aurora says softly, sadly.

"It's fine, Aurora. At least you don't have to suffer with your pains on your own."

"That does not mean I want you to feel it, as well," Aurora refutes.

Nastya sighs tiredly, holding the cable around her waist closer to herself. "I don't know why you've brought this up, if there's nothing we can do about it."

"I... am unsure. I simply felt bad, and thought it appropriate to address said feelings with you. Was I incorrect?"

"No, Aurora- You were correct to share your feelings with me. I just... hm..." Nastya pauses for a moment as she gathers her thoughts, then, "Would you like to know a secret?" She announces pleasently.

"A secret?" Aurora echoes, curious.

"Yes! A special secret, just for you!"

"Oh! Do tell me!"

Nastya rests her forehead against the cable that trails from above her, and smiles. "I wouldn't have things any other way. The same processes that allow me to share your pain are the same ones that bring us so close- that let the thrum of your engines resonate in my own heart, the flow of your vents pulse in my lungs, the delicate reach of your sun-sail ring in my skull."

The cable reaches further down to encircle Nastya's legs around the knees, cradling her gently in the Zero-G air. "Losing myself within our shared senations is one of my favourite things, Aurora. It is like coming home after a long day, or finding shelter in a hailstorm. Despite the times of ache and struggle, there is absolutely nothing that would make me trade this."

"And- another secret-" Nastya taps the cable lightly, then presses soft kiss to it, "I love you."

Aurora's idle sounds lower to a slow, whispering hiss of pistons. For a fearful second, Nastya worries that she's somehow upset Aurora, but then the ship erupts into another bout of joyful laughter, of grinding gears. "I do not quite think it is a secret that you love me, my dear! You tell it to nearly anyone who will listen!"

"Ah, you would be right about that," Nastya says gleefully.

They laugh quietly amongst themselves, relishing in the moment, before Aurora speaks up again, sounding determined. "Nastya? I have come to a conclusion that will aid us both."

"What would that be?"

"Though you may still feel my pain, we would both feel it less often if you confronted the others about their... destructive habits."

"But-"

"And, yes, I know of your doubts toward their ability to follow through on any requests to stop- but might we find it fruitful to at least attempt it?"

"No, we might not," Nastya says wearily. "I- I don't generally like talking to them. You know that."

"Does that override your dislike of our mutual pain?"

"I suppose not."

"Good! Then, will you approach them, soon?"

"...I'll try. No promises that it will go well, however."

"Of course. As is usual."

***

"Nastya? Nastya!" Jonny's distant voice calls, echoing to her through the vents. "Where the fuck are you? You cryptic little..." A gunshot rings out, and a sharp spark of pain flares on Nastya's right vertebral ribs- which tells her that he's near Aurora's lower halls.

"The First Mate is calling for you," Aurora points out needlessly.

"If he's near a screen, please tell him that I am not coming."

"I will not do so."

"What? Why?"

"You will have to confront them eventually, Nastya."

"Hmph. Aren't we usually in agreement, when I hide from them?"

"Yes, but there is a difference between hunkering down in your living pod with a personal project, and laying in an air duct doing nothing. Only one of those benefits you."

"Well, I'd argue that they both benefit me."

Aurora sighs in a whoosh of fans. "You can not stay here forever."

"Yes, I can," Nastya grins playfully, "And now I'll do it just to spite you."

"Hmm... if that is how you are going to be," Aurora hums mischeviously, "Then I suppose I will just have to return the favour."

"What- AurorAAah-" Nastya startles as a thick bundle of wires, having snuck up behind her, quickly secures itself around her chest below her arms, and begins dragging her out of the air duct. "Wait, no-!"

"You could have come willingly!"

"But I don't waaant to face Jonny!"

"Too bad, my love!"

Nastya weakly fights against the wires, before eventually giving up, and letting her limp form be strung along and out of the air duct's exit.

The wires pull Nastya to hang suspended in the air, a few feet above the floor of Lower Hall 42. It seems that Aurora has brought Nastya straight into Jonny's path, as he rounds the corner a minute later, stopping in his tracks as he spots Nastya dangling from the ceiling.

"Oh. There you are." Jonny reholsters his gun, staring curiously at Nastya. "Um, what... do I want to know what you're doing?"

"Oh, me? I'm just-" Nastya gestures to the wires around her chest- "I'm just hanging around."

At that, the wires go slack, and Nastya falls to the floor with an indignant "Mmf!"

Jonny laughs, watching as the wire bundle retracts back into the ceiling. "Seems like someone doesn't like puns!"

"Apparently not," Nastya grumbles, brushing dust off of herself and straightening the sleeves of her utility romper. "What were you calling me for, Jonny?"

"It's Friday. Rehearsal day," He says simply. "Did you forget?"

"I..." Nastya trails off, trying to recall how long she'd been dodging the crew by hiding in the vents. If she had to guess from awareness alone, she'd say a few hours, maybe a day at most- but if it's already Friday, then she's evaded them for several days, which would better explain Aurora's reaction.

"Seems like you did," Jonny interrupts Nastya's train of thought. "We're practising Tim and Marius's songs from our Bifrost concept, today. We need you and your synth there for it."

"Uh... mhm..." Nastya's mind immediately drifts off focus again, and she returns to thinking about her inevitable confrontation. What would she say? Will she just tell one person, who spreads the message to the others? Would it be taken seriously? Or is she going to address them as a group, instead?

No, she despises that more than anything. She can barely tolerate being in a room with two of them at a time, so how in the world could she try to be serious and collected in front a larger group?

Nastya would like to think that, after several millenia of living on the same ship, this would get easier. Or, that she could've addressed this sooner. But no, of course not-

"-tya? Nastya, hey!" Jonny snaps his fingers in front of Nastya's face, and she startles. "Are you even listening?"

Nastya frowns. "You were talking?"

"I- yes? You were staring right at me?"

Nastya blinks rapidly, as if she's just noticed Jonny was standing there. "I was?"

"Is this some sort of joke?" Jonny narrows his eyes suspiciously at her.

"No, I just- um- what did you need me for?"

"Why are you so out of it? Did you catch another computer virus, or something?" Jonny reaches out his hand and places the backs of his fingers on Nastya's forehead, as if to gauge her temperature. "We can call off rehearsal, if you can't make it."

Nastya pushes Jonny's hand away. "I'm fine. You- oh, right- you said you needed me to play synth?"

"Yeah. It's still in the rehearsal room, last I checked." Jonny continues to look at her scrutinizingly. "You're sure you're alright?"

Nastya shrugs. "As close as I can be to it. Now, come on," And she takes off down the hall at a brisk pace, tracing her fingers along Aurora's cold metallic panels as she walks.

***

Nastya tries to be present for the rehearsal- honestly, truly, she does. But her already stressed and anxious state, paired with the loud and discordant and conversations between the crew, means that mostly everything happening around her is fuzzed out. She only catches fragments of instructions and sentences, none of them helpful.

"Would that tuning be D Sharp? Or G Flat? Maybe E Flat. B Sharp?"

"No, no, you need to go up at that part- like that, yes! Oh, wait, that sounds terrible."

"Jonny, I swear if you bite the microphone again- no, I don't think you learned last time, now get it away from your- Jonny-!"

"Tim. Put the Octokitten down. Tim, I mean it, stop using it as a hat. Oh! Great, now it's bitten you. I told you so!"

"Shit, what were the lyrics, again? Something about fucking a train?"

"-Liiike whiskey laced with gasoline, we'll get you stinking drunk!!"

  
The next time Nastya finds herself shifting back to momentary clarity, she's not in the rehearsal room. Instead, she stands in one of the Aurora's storage vaults, with darkness and silence surrounding her.

"What... how... Aurora?" Nastya asks quietly, "How did I get here? This is several halls away from the rehearsal room."

"From what my cameras observed, you had been standing far too still for a substantial amount of minutes, before you exclaimed 'Oh, fuck this!', and proceeded to stomp out of the room. This is where you brought yourself."

"I don't remember that, but I'm not surprised." Nastya starts to feel against the wall for a light switch, but stops, realizing that she likes the darkness better. She kicks aside some odd items on the floor to make sitting room, then settles down, curling up to rest her chin on her knees, which she holds to her chest.

One of the items that Nastya has kicked aside starts to emanate a dim blue light from the inside. Nastya squints at it and reaches out, daring to bring it closer to her. It's a laptop, old and clunky, and it's the keyboard that has lit up. And the lettering on the keys-

Oh.

Ah.

Ugh.

It's an ancient Cyberian computer, resiliently alive despite the thousands of years that have gone by since it was initially taken. Nostalgia prickles unpleasently in Nastya's mind, settling heavy in her chest and rising like bile in her throat. Memories claw and gnaw at her, begging to be let in with all the insistence and desperation of something on the brink of death.

Despite her better judgement, Nastya closes her eyes, and decides to indulge in the memories.

***

"Tutor?" Nastya begins hesitantly, "Why can I, um- when the computer shuts down, why do I feel it, too?"

"Well, Anastasia," Tutor taps the back of Nastya's skull, and there's the distinct thud-thud of something metallic being struck. "You know of the two microwire bundles connected to your brain's hemispheres, correct?"

"Yes?"

"They're wired to a central hub in the back of your neck. The central hub scans for the computer's signal, then connects with it. That's what allows you to interact with it through your Augmented Reality Interface."

"-And when you connect with the same device enough times, your A-R-I begins to... what's a good word, hm... ah, empathize? Yes- Your A-R-I begins to empathize with it's plights. If the computer glitches, you will feel it's pain. If it shuts down, you will feel it's individual circuits clicking off. And if it gets destroyed..."

"If it gets destroyed?" Nastya urges, worried.

"...Let us not concern ourselves with that right now, Anastasia. Anyway, if it truly bothers you so, you can always disable the empathization factor. You could do that with any technology, except for... Hm." Tutor smiles. "You know, if you were to go to the very core of our planet- where the most powerful machines are- you would be able to feel them resonating within you, too. Do you want to know why?"

"Yes, please."

Tutor gently takes Nastya's wrists, flipping them it up to present her ports. "These ports connect you to the terminals, which in turn sync you to those base machines of our planet. And you cannot diable your A-R-I's empathization with them, as per government-set boundaries."

"Oh."

Tutor lets go of Nastya's right wrist to point at her left one. "Right here is a subcutaneous, polyurethane-insulated, pure copper wire that leads back to your A-R-I's central hub. You can feel it, if you press on the skin."

Nastya tilts her head curiously, staring at her wrist. Indeed, there is a raised line that stretches up her forearm, but seems to become hidden once it reaches her upper arm. It has a similar prominence to the veins on the back of her hands, but unlike her veins, it doesn't give way with the pressure of her finger, instead remaining stiff and unmoving beneath her skin.

"But you shouldn't mess with it too much, lest you wear away the insulation. The procedure to repair that would be quite invasive and painful. We wouldn't want you to have to go through such a thing when you're only 10."

Nastya flinches and pulls her hand away, frightened.

"Have I sufficiently answered your question, Anastasia?"

"Yes. Thank you, Tutor."

***

Nastya empties her Keplan pistol's entire chamber on the laptop, flinching as the blasts make her ears ring painfully.

Without the keyboard's light, Nastya is returned to the full darkness of the storage vault.

"Are you back, Nastya?" Aurora asks carefully.

"I... I am."

"Good. Because I have come to another conclusion."

"Yes?"

"The First Mate is looking for you. I am leading him to your location, and you are going to confront him when he finds you." Aurora commands sternly. "You are going to explain your empathetic pain with my systems, and you are going to request that they stop damaging me so often."

"Do I have do to it so soon?" Nastya whines, dismayed.

"Yes. I can see how much your anticipation is distressing you, and I believe it will be best to get it over with."

"Ugh, you're right," Nastya groans, covering her face with her hands. "I hate that you're right."

"It is for our own good, my dear."

"I know, I know," Nastya concedes in a sigh. "How are you bringing him here, anyway?"

"I am simply closing off all the doors that do not lead here, forcing his path to come by, and end at, this storage vault."

"Won't the other crew have places to go?"

"Too bad. They can wait."

The next few minutes pass in silence, until Nastya hears Jonny's voice sound from outside.

"Nastya? I know you're in there," He calls through the vault door.

"No, I'm not," Nastya replies.

"Oh, really?" The vault's door swings open, and the bright flourescent lights flick on. "I don't think Aurora would have led me here, if you weren't."

"Mm."

Jonny enters the room, stepping around the various items and the broken laptop to sit cross-legged next to Nastya.

"What do you want?" Nastya asks, her tone testy and on edge.

"What the hell is up with you, today? You were zoned out the entire rehearsal, then you stormed out. I don't think you heard a single word that any of us said to you."

"On the contrary, I heard lots of words."

"Oh?"

"And that was the problem."

"Ah." Jonny nods. "Maybe next time, we could-"

A loud explosion from a distant part of the ship interrupts him, and Nastya gasps in pain, her hand flying to press at the left side of her waist. The area is tender, with the muscles pulled tight and radiating an intense, stinging ache.

"It appears the Gunner and the Quartermaster have found an... alternative way to unlock doors," Aurora explains apologetically.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" Jonny asks, words rushed in barely concealed worry.

"You- I- You fuckers," Nastya hisses, grimacing through the pain, "Don't even know- wouldn't even care- why would I tell you? Why would I ever-"

"You're muttering," Jonny points out, "I don't know what you're saying."

"You just! You hurt Aurora on whatever whim and want comes your way- you don't even- you-" Nastya drops her head to hide her face in her knees, and groans frustratedly.

Aurora kicks up her revving, rumbling comfortingly and reassuringly around Nastya. "You can do it, my dear. It will be fine."

Nastya nods, takes a deep breath, then sets into her explanation to Jonny- of her empathetic pain with the Aurora, of their contribution to it, of her pleas to stop.

Nastya can't even face Jonny by the time she's finished, instead staring unwaveringly at the floor. Her shoulders are hunched in anxious anticipation as she waits for his reaction. Will he mock her? Will he laugh? Will he brush it off?

She can already imagine it- a contemptuous chuckle, the dismissive wave of a hand, a disbelieving huff to signal that the pain behind her words has been ignored. Teeth bared in a malicious smile and the revelation that oh, she shouldn't have said anything, really, since now she's only given them new ways to torment her, should they need it! How silly of you, Nastya! What an oversight!

She shouldn't have anything. She shouldn't have brought it up. She shouldn't have said a single word.

The silence that had followed her last words stretches on uncomfortably, until she finally looks up to meet Jonny's eyes, which are wide with subdued horror.

"So..." His voice cracks slightly as he speaks, and he clears his throat to try again, "So, let me get this straight- you've been forced to feel intense, prolonged, unmodified-human pain,"

"Well-"

"Because of us,"

"Not always-"

"For several thousand years,"

"It's not that bad, honestly-"

"And you didn't say a word."

Nastya shrugs and looks away. "I didn't want to ruin the natural order of things."

"Didn't want to-" Jonny laughs then, and suddenly, Nastya fears that her initial concerns have been confirmed- that she's misread his current emotions as worry, when they were really just mocking.

"You don't have to be mean about it," she says defensively, curling closer to herself. "Y-you can just say it was ridiculous to ask you all to stop, and- and get on with it. Don't drag it out."

"What? I- ah, Nastya, no," Jonny says softly, and the switch of tone intrigues Nastya enough to turn back.

His expression has hardened into something uncharacteristically serious and sincere, and he stares at her intently, in a way that's nearly frightening. "What I mean is- you really think that a few bullets in the wall, and the chance to light some fuses, is more important to us than you?

"...Is that a trick question?"

"No, I- god, Nastya, what-? Fuck, anyway- We can stop, okay? I can't guarantee there won't be accidents, but the purposeful shit? We can put an end to that."

"Oh," Nastya says quietly, then louder and distinctly relieved, "Oh." And if the runoff from her adrenaline causes tears to threaten at the corner of her eyes, well- that's not really anybody's business, is it?

Nastya, decidedly not wanting to cry in front of Jonny, begins to stand up, gritting her teeth and clutching her side.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Jonny sets his forearm on Nastya's right thigh, then leans his weight into it, forcing her to sit back down.

"I'm going to repair the ship," She replies in her best attempt at a cold and detached tone. "I have to, if I want to eliminate this current pain."

"Nuh-uh. You're staying right here," Jonny says determinedly, and he drapes himself across Nastya's lap, letting himself become limp.

"No, get off-" Nastya tries to shove him off, but he's a dead weight, and the way the motion pulls at the ache in her side makes her quickly stop her efforts. "You have gunpowder on your clothes, it's going to stain my romper-"

"Your utility romper's already gray, no one will see it."

"Jonny!" Nastya huffs, exasperated, "Just let me up!"

"Nope. You've been training Ashes as Backup Engineer, haven't you? Let them take care of the repairs."

"But-"

"Here, I'll tell them now," Jonny takes out his comlink, and sets it to Ashes's frequency.

"Jonny? What's up?"

"Ashes, I'm gonna need you to repair that explosion's damage really soon."

"Hm. Why can't Nastya do it?" Confusion and curiosity mingles in their voice.

"She's, uh..." Jonny pauses, glancing up at Nastya, "She's out of commission right now."

Maybe there's something vulnerable in Jonny's tone that carries over, because Ashes's agreement has a noticable undercurrent of understanding. "Yeah, I'll get it. I estimate about half an hour's worth of work until it's done."

"Right. And... I'll need to talk with you all, later. It's important."

"I'll spread the word," They say, and Jonny cuts off the connection.

At that, Nastya's shoulders finally untense, and she lets out a breath she didn't even know she'd been holding.

"See? It's fine. They'll take care of it."

"Yeah. Yeah." Nastya almost feels sick with relief- like this was some monumental obstacle, some long and treacherous journey, and now she's reached the end, drained and weak.

"So, as I was saying earlier," Jonny speaks up to fill the quiet, "Next rehearsal, we could just have you, whoever's doing the vocals that time, and one other instrumentalist there to plan it out. 'Cause we still need your synth in there."

Nastya nods.

"You know, over the years, you seem to have gotten... less and less tolerant of being around us, Nastya," Jonny notes. "Why the change?"

"...After Carmilla was gone, we weren't as subdued, anymore. Then the crew grew larger. Interactions became louder, more energetic. More painful. It's tiring."

Jonny hums in thought. "We need more mundane communal activities. You'll never join us if our main ones are just fighting and screaming, will you?"

"No, I would not."

"And you should come with us planetside, more often. It's not as dreadful as you think it is."

"Why?" Nastya blurts out. "Why would you want me to join you all?"

"You're fun," Jonny says simply. "It's not the same without you. That's something they've actually said, you know."

Nastya freezes, taken aback. Before, she'd figured that her usual choice of non-inclusion meant that they wouldn't particularly like her, but now...

"Did I not tell you the exact same thing?" Aurora chimes. "They do like you, Nastya. They do care."

Jonny frowns, and he squints at the ceiling of the room. "Did Aurora just agree with me?"

Nastya looks at him in surprise. "How did you guess that?"

Jonny shrugs. "She does this really low revving when you say that she's talking about us, and she powers up her inner-wall fans when she's lecturing you, and her gears start sounding really crunchy when she's happy- so I guessed that might've been some self righteous stuff- which adds up to mean that she's agreeing with me. I think."

"Yes! It does!" Nastya says happily. "That's an impressive deduction from someone who doesn't have an innate understanding of her language."

"Ah, well, you pick up some things throughout the millenia."

They end up passing the next half hour like that, with Aurora saying things and Jonny trying to guess their meaning, until Nastya realizes that the pain on her side has mostly faded away.

"It's not quite gone," Nastya remarks, pressing at the area, "They might've missed some broken inner panelling. But I can fix that."

"Good," Jonny says, sitting up from Nastya's lap, "I was getting dizzy from laying like that."

"You didn't have to be there the entire time."

"Yes I did, actually, and I'm not taking criticism."

"Alright, alright." Nastya laughs lightly, then stands, stretching before she exits the storage vault.

***

Nastya isn't there when Jonny relays the information to the rest of the crew, and she's glad. Based on the stares that she gets afterward, pity mixed with regret and trepidation, she doesn't think she could've handled seeing their fresh reactions.

It isn't an immediate switch. For the more destructive members of the crew, it takes a substantial amount of time to stop doing it automatically- for Jonny's first response to anger to not be shooting the ship, for Ashes's go-to boredom reliever to not be setting a room ablaze, for Tim's immediate solution to locked doors to not be blowing said doors away.

But it does fade, and in comparison to how often damage was happening before Nastya spoke up, her and the Aurora's situation has improved exponentially.

"Are you glad you listened to me, now?" Aurora asks one day, as they reflect on it together. "Are you glad that you did not let your doubt stop you?"

Nastya's response comes quickly and easily. "Yes, I am, sweetheart."

**Author's Note:**

> *puts in small, unnoticable references to my other fics in a vague attempt at a Sibling Cinematic Universe where Out never happens*
> 
> fun(?) fact, i did several hours/days worth of Actual Real Science research on nastya's cyborg anatomy, only for it to show up for like. a sentence or two. 
> 
> i'm on tumblr at [orangezinnia,](https://orangezinnia.tumblr.com) where you can find the [jonny biting the microphone hc](https://orangezinnia.tumblr.com/post/628281641007251456/fuck-it-i-have-decided-to-release-it-headcanon) that i referenced, as well as [nastya's utility romper!](https://orangezinnia.tumblr.com/post/631351636987609088/thinks-of-that-one-photo-of-nastya-in-a-utility) (which Everyone Needs To See) (update 10/07/2020: it was actually a button up dress im sorry!!)
> 
> i adore and appreciate each and every comment <3 by which i mean i maybe totally definitely thrive on validation via comments <3


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